


Eight

by derekstilinski



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derekstilinski/pseuds/derekstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's worried about his and John's health... Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sherlock/JohnLock fic. Go easy on me? (:

John sets down teacup on the living room table, Sherlock looking up at him. He nods down to the tea, "That good? Or did you want something else?"

"Yes, I require something else." Is all Sherlock gives in return. John rolls his eyes, setting his cup down on the desk. He'll probably have to rummage around for something, or end up going to the store, only to come back and find Sherlock gone or saying he doesn't want it anymore.

"Yeah, alright," He tells him, going to get his coat. Sherlock gets up and grabs a hold of his belt, making him stumble back when he pulls. John falls onto the couch, barely missing the edge of the coffee table, plopping down to a neatly seated again Sherlock, "What the hell are you playing at?!"

"Hush." Sherlock says, pulling his feet up onto the couch and slipping his arm around John's middle. He lays his head on his shoulder like he doesn't quite know how, hesitating a few times and trying to get comfortable.

"I don't understand," John whispers, a little frozen in his spot. He looks down to Sherlock's arm, feels his fingers holding around his side, "What's happening?" He looks down to Sherlock's head, dark curls rubbing against his cheek, "Are you having a breakdown? Is that what this is? Sherlock?"

"I'm trying to relax," Sherlock shifts, "Loosen up, John."

"What?" He asks, but lets Sherlock wiggle his arms, shake his shoulders. John slumps back into the couch. Sherlock mumbles a 'good' before settling back in, head on his shoulder and arm around him.

John wonders if this is actually a breakdown for Sherlock, whether it be mental or emotional, "So um," He starts, fiddling with his hands, "What's this about?"

"Hm?"

"The... this. This--You being touchy. You're  _cuddling_  me, Sherlock."

"Oh. Yes, that," Sherlock holds him a bit closer, "Why aren't you cuddling me back?"

"Uh," John looks at him again, Sherlock peeking up at him, "This isn't exactly comfortable."

"Right, of course." Sherlock pulls away, getting up and grabbing John's arm, moving him to where he was previously sitting. John looks up at him confused, but Sherlock sits down, maneuvering until he's between John's legs, one of them still foot on the floor and the other pressed against the back of the couch. He settles himself in, head resting below John's sternum. "How about this?"

"What?" John feels  _more_  than confused, and a little vulnerable, legs spread to accommodate Sherlock.

"This position. More comfortable for you. Maybe it would be better if we had a blanket. Or if we could both fit on the couch a certain way, we could lay down. That's mostly for beds, though, isn't it? Maybe we should try that as well." Sherlock rambles expertly, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together over his stomach.

"What? No. I mean, what--why are you doing this?"

"The human body requires at least eight positive touches a day to survive. I have noticed we are not getting that." Sherlock explains, snuggling more into John, "So, this is to change that. Now... You may play with my hair."

"You want me to _what?_ " John says, incredulous and lost.

"I want you to play with my--Mrs. Hudson, evening." Sherlock greets as Mrs. Hudson walks in, returning their milk.

"Hello, dears," She says, ignoring the fact that their pressed up together, "What have you two got going on tonight?"

"We're cuddling," Sherlock says, jumping up from the couch to meet Mrs. Hudson as she walks back into the living room. He gives her a hug, leaning down so he doesn't hurt her back, "Do you get eight positive touches a day? Hugs, handshakes, pats on the back?"

"Um, sometimes." She rubs his back before he pulls away.

"Good. Just remember at least eight, yes?"

"Well, of course... Goodnight, both of you." She says, giving a small smile with her signature  _'I am dealing with Sherlock Holmes, he's not regular'_  expression as she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

John's getting up from the couch when Sherlock turns to look at him, "Would you like milk in your tea?"

John slowly lowers himself back down into the cushions, "I would, yes."

Sherlock gives him a quick smile and goes to fetch the milk. Sherlock doesn't really do that for him, it's more the other way around. But John's never cuddled into him.

Sherlock pours a bit of milk into each of their cups, bringing John's so it's on the table as well. John sits up, watching the milk swirl from white to caramel brown, watching the tea look like it's fogging over. Sherlock sits down very close next to him, touching his knee before picking up his cup and taking a long sip like it's all the usual.

John sips at his tea as well, and feels Sherlock's hand on his back, rubbing smooth circles. John awkwardly scoots a little closer.

"Would you like to take this to the bedroom?" Sherlock asks nonchalantly, setting his tea down and watching John spit his out, "Well, then. Come along." He stands waits for John to do the same, then leads him to his room. He keeps it fairly neat, a few books scattered here and there.

Sherlocks sheds his robe, long-sleeved night shirt being smoothed out. John shifts a little, then sits on the bed. Sherlock lays down, getting comfortable under the blankets, "Come, John. We haven't got all night."

John sighs and lets Sherlock peel back the covers for him, then get very close and pull them over him once he's there. Sherlock slips his arm underneath John's head, supporting. He wraps his other arm around John as well, tugging him close so his face is hidden in the crook of his neck. He rests his hand on Sherlock's side, about to pull away when Sherlock's voice stops him.

"I'm glad this is working, John. We will be better in no time." He whispers, rubbing John's back again.

John peeks up at him, met only with his jaw. Sherlock really cares for him, coming a bit out of his comfort zone to take John in. In a very intimate way. John rolls his eyes, smiling softly as Sherlock starts to run his fingers through his hair, hand on his back settling warm against him. Sherlock's thumb rubs over the knobs of his spine delicately.

"Do you want me to stay here tonight?" He asks in a quiet voice.

"If you would... For your health, John." Sherlock says, like he's not holding John in a way they could both comfortably fall asleep and wake up with someone's ear to someone else's heart.

John chuckles softly, nuzzling Sherlock's neck while he scoots to let an arm lay over his waist, "Yeah, for my health."

\--

It's Sherlock that ends up against John's side, snoring softly into his ear and his hand high on John's left side, feeling his heartbeat from there. John's hand is placed on his forearm, like he was holding him there in his sleep.

He checks his watch and finds he's going to be late at the clinic, so he gently tries to detach himself from Sherlock. It doesn't work, though. Sherlock is not so deep in his slumber and wakes just as John sits up, grabbing his arm.

"John, where are you going?"

"I have work, remember? At the--"

"The clinic with _Sarah_. Ah yes, I remember."

John's brow furrows, "Why did you say it like that?"

"Like what?" Sherlock's hold on his arm doesn't let up, "It's a new day, we only got to seven positive touches the night before."

"How do you get that? We... Touched quite a bit."

"Some of them didn't count."

John looks back at him, "Which ones?"

"Some." Sherlock says, hair rumpled.

John sighs and gets up, "Well, I have to get dressed and go."

"But John," Sherlock gets up on his knees, trying to pull him back, "You can't. Your health, John."

"Sherlock--"

"John, this might result in a chemical imbalance and cause you to become ill and--"

John rolls his eyes and takes Sherlock's face in his hands, giving a chaste kiss to his chapped lips. He pulls away dramatically, full with the 'mwah!', "Wonderful! Eight positive touches! I'll be back later, Sherlock."

Sherlock stares at him as he leaves the room.

He plays that song John likes by Ed Shesomethingorother, it doesn't really matter, from the radio in a taxi that they heard two weeks, three days and nine hours ago. He remembers John tapping his foot, swaying his head. John looks at him curiously when he walks in.

"Sherlock, when did you learn 'Give Me Love'?"


End file.
